Katharina – 4th of July

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Katharina Engelhardt and Caroline Wise in Northern Arizona

We were up and gone relatively early. The car was pointed northeast with the consideration that the 4th of July exodus from Phoenix that would have started yesterday afternoon and continued today was likely heading west to California and north to one of the many lakes in Arizona. So why were we going to the northeast? Because nobody goes to nothingness.

Katharina Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

The only place we had in mind before leaving Phoenix was the Petrified Forest National Park that Caroline had recommended after I refused to take us to Monterey, California, and its aquarium due to the horrific traffic returning to Arizona on Sunday that there would have been no way to avoid. Travels on holidays in America by air or car have become exercises in frustration. The sooner we are able to get away from the traffic jam without having to finish a nice long weekend stuck for hours on the road, going nowhere, or hanging out in the airport, the better. Turns out we were lucky in deciding not to go to California because around the time we took this photo the city of Ridgecrest experienced a 6.4 magnitude earthquake.

Katharina Engelhardt at Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

Kat loves horses so much so that it might verge on obsession. As the ranger rode up on her steed, I grabbed Caroline and Katharina, who were busy working on the Junior Ranger booklet so she could earn her very first Junior Ranger badge from an American National Park.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

Over the past 24 years, we’ve probably visited these petrified trees more than half a dozen times, and try as we might to see changes, things appear exactly the same as they did during our previous visits. Funny how wood that has turned to stone has such resilience against the elements.

Katharina Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

Aunt and niece off checking out the sites, talking German, and getting to know one another just a little better.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

Meanwhile, I study the colorful details of wood that is no more. This brings up the thought of how much else we see that we think we understand, only to have no idea that it is something completely different than what our first observation might suggest it is.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

The vast expanse of the desert acts as a great camouflage for the similarly vast expanse of time that is directly before us but might not be so apparent. When we see shifting sands and plants, it brings us to the immediacy of the moment, but every other element preceded our here and now by many millions of years. In the arid remains of our past, we find the reminder of how briefly temporary our own fragile existences are.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

As I look at this red rock, I can’t help but see petrified travertine rivers flow, and I suppose this is possible as obviously the trees that fell along the banks of rivers in this area about 225 million years ago were being exposed to highly mineralized waters, thus transforming their wood into stone. Then, all of a sudden, I can imagine that this area may have looked very similar to the Plitviče Lakes National Park that we recently visited in Croatia. Compare this landscape to some of my photos from that day back in late May by clicking here.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

Trees up to about 200 feet (60 meters) grew in this area, and this fallen giant has a brace of concrete underneath it to help support its incredible weight. What you are seeing is not the full length of the tree, but it was the best I could do, and even though I’m relatively happy with the image where support is hidden, I don’t feel the photo has any depth to all you to just how massive this thing is. Thinking about this now I should have had Caroline and Katharina standing over on the opposite side of the tree for a sense of scale.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

The fossilized remains of volcanic ash flows can be seen peeking out from the red rock debris that has fallen over it. The rock above the gray and purple underlying layer is sandstone that accumulated on top of the earth where a forest once stood, but now even remnants of its existence are quickly disappearing.

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

The little bit of precipitation the area gets is still enough to work at carving away the stone, with evidence of water flow everywhere you look.

Katharina Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

Would an Ancestral Puebloan from 4,000 years ago who may have stood right here seen essentially the same thing? How did they see this world, and was there any need to explain it or understand it?

Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

There’s a trail down in there that Caroline and I have never taken and the same is true for the Agate House. So this is a note for us to visit the Petrified Forest National Park again, get out on this trail at Blue Mesa, and get over to the 700-year-old house made of petrified trees.

Katharina Engelhardt at Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona

Katharina is being sworn in as she receives her Junior Ranger Badge.

Caroline Wise in Northern Arizona

It’s called a Picadilly, and it’s made of shaved ice, kool-aid, and pickles. Sounds strange, but it was certainly an interesting concoction. While its origins are mysterious, it definitely originated on the Native American lands of northern Arizona, and rumor has it that it came out of the mind of Shasta Namoki, who is Hopi-Tewa living up on First Mesa.

Horse on the Navajo Reservation in Northern Arizona

We’ve been on the constant lookout for horses and were not disappointed when coming across this near-perfect specimen of a stallion. I’d like to point out the almost imperceptible copyright statement of my niece, who is my guest photographic contributor of all things horse for the duration of her stay in America. By the way, I should also give her blog a nod by giving the link to Kats Travels and Adventures.

Canyon De Chelly National Monument in Chinle, Arizona

We are calling it a day up in Chinle, Arizona. Today, we learned that Kat was not prepared for the incredible distances between places out here in the southwest. For us, the 382 miles (619 km) is a relatively short drive, but for Kat, it is the equivalent of driving from Frankfurt, Germany, to a bit past Paris, France.

Canyon De Chelly National Monument in Chinle, Arizona

Our stop after checking in to our motel is catching the sunset at Canyon de Chelly National Monument.

Canyon De Chelly National Monument in Chinle, Arizona

It’s funny how familiar all of this looks to us now and how exotic it appeared during our first encounters. We wonder how Kat perceives it and if she’s able to pick up on the beauty of it all or if she sees it as a relatively barren moonscape.

Caroline Wise and Katharina Engelhardt at Canyon De Chelly National Monument in Chinle, Arizona

I think it’s great that Caroline and Kat have been able to spend the first full day together here in America in each other’s company. I’m wondering if this is the first full day ever that they’ve been together?

Canyon De Chelly National Monument in Chinle, Arizona

Time to go find dinner as the sun sets on the west. Our only real choice was Denny’s because I refused Church’s Fried Chicken or Burger King. Dinner in Chinle on the best of days is a chore, but here on July 4th, it was made even worse. I should point out that Kat is a recent convert to vegetarianism, and we are doing our best to accommodate her, though in rural America, that is no easy task. By the end of dinner, we agree that, yes, the drives are long but are necessary to get to worthwhile sites that can lend broad impressions to Kat and her first visit out west.

Chinle, Arizona

Dessert was drinking in the Milky Way back at Canyon de Chelly.

Alaska – Day 1

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Roads and rivers we've traveled in Alaska

Anchorage leaves a lot to be desired, and so does Fairbanks, but there’s big nature between the two, so those less-than-ideal realities will have to be endured. To be fair, their lackluster impression probably has more to do with our budget than with a totality of blanket statements that cast aspersions upon the aesthetics and services either of these cities have on offer. We did, after all, have an amazing dinner riverside in Fairbanks that will stand out as an enduring memory, but the lodgings offered for under $200 a night are deplorable. So, let’s move past these temporary stopovers and get on with why we are here.

We came up this far north for several reasons: one was because of Alaska, two, Denali, and three, to add to our map of America, more specifically, the map where we track which roads we’ve traveled throughout the United States. While we’d had a brief stay in Anchorage on our previous trip to Alaska, all we did was grab a rental car for a few hours to head in the general direction of Seward; we didn’t have time to see anything else. That trip was at the tail end of a rafting adventure that saw us rafting the Alsek River between Haines Junction and Yakutat, Alaska. This time, we are once again here to raft the Alsek, but we left Phoenix early to get a couple of days in some unexplored territory before we hit the river.

Caroline and John Wise at Denali National Park in Alaska

Because Anchorage is right on the coast, it turns out they get their fair share of cloud coverage. As we came in under clouds, so shall we go. Our drive out of town led us north on Highway 1 towards Denali National Park and Preserve, and with gray skies, there wasn’t much on the horizon for the first few hours of the drive.

Sometimes, the legends and myths surrounding a thing can make that thing much larger than it truly is, and with that magic of the unknown, dreams cascade in ways that no reality will ever compare to. Then again, reality sets into motion an entirely new sense of knowledge that replaces the fantasy with the experience that often has the effect of drawing us back in for return visits and creating the fertile ground for new dreams.

Denali National Park is one of those places whose scale and reputation come with some big expectations. First of all, it’s not as remote as our imaginations have already plotted on the map. From Anchorage, where we landed the day before, it’s a mere 237 miles to the park. Next, based on anecdotal stories, we approached this place with the idea that the crowds would be on par with Disneyland on Thanksgiving; fortunately for us, that was hardly the situation.

On the Roadside Trail in Danali National Park

Our first stop had to be at the visitor center, as a trip to a National Park wouldn’t be complete without Caroline working to get her Junior Ranger badge. While kids can get by doing an activity or two from the workbook, Caroline tries to answer every question and complete as many tasks as possible to at least show some serious effort. Seeing we didn’t have all day to spend in the park, she’d have to limit herself and chose the Sled Dog Demo. I didn’t come to Alaska to spend even one minute on a bus that could take us there, so we got on the Roadside Trail for the nearly two-mile hike to the kennels.

The forested trail is a nice introduction to the flora of the area, though the fauna was either in hiding or had already suffered the sixth great extinction. We made it to the kennel minutes before the demo with enough time to get a quick pull of water from the hose nearest to the dogs. As I was drinking from it I was wondering, did any of the dogs lift a leg on this thing?

Alaskan Huskies in Danali National Park during a demonstration of sledding, summer style.

These Alaskan Huskies are a beautiful, spirited breed of dogs with the pack instinct fully intact. They appear to love moving as a unit and dragging the wheeled training cart around the track that has been set up just for this purpose. The skilled handlers take pride in showing us visitors the working life of these dogs that we learn are most comfortable when chilling on a ten-degree-below-zero winter day.

Caroline snuggling up with one of the huskies in Danali National Park

With a ranger autograph in hand that proves Caroline attended a ranger-led program, we take the Rock Creek trail back to the visitor center, and at 2.9 miles long, we relish the idea of our creekside return. Turns out that the Rock Creek trail is not aptly named as there is no sight of the creek, though we do hear it twice on our hike back to the visitors center. Regarding that aforementioned extinction, we do learn it’s not complete yet as we pass a couple of squirrels and the shiny berry-infused scat of a bear.

Squirrel in the wilds of Alaska

Back at the Visitor Center, Caroline is ready for swearing-in, though we are reminded that it is a pledge to maintain a code of behavior and provide a good example of being a steward while visiting our public lands. Win of wins for being here today as Caroline is leaving with a commemorative centennial wood badge that sadly would be lost by the time we got back to Arizona.

Caroline Wise earning her Junior Ranger badge at Danali National Park in Alaska

One more thing to do before leaving is head up the road to Savage River, which, for this trip to Denali, will be the end of the road for us. Going beyond this point requires the visitor to sign up for a bus trip to one of several points along the 83-mile-long gravel road. The longest journey into the park takes 13 hours or about 12 hours we don’t have right now. Reaching the bridge over the not-so-Savage River, we have not yet gleaned a view of the mountain formerly known as Mt. McKinley, now known by its native name, Denali, and have every reason to come back at a future date to see more of this enormous park and preserve.

Savage River at Danali National Park in Alaska

Somewhere out there in the distance beyond the Savage River is the namesake of this park that we’ll hope to catch a glimpse of on a subsequent trip.

On the way to Fairbanks, Alaska

By the time we reach Fairbanks, we are hungry and head directly to the Pump House, which seems to be the most popular place in the area. Rightfully so, as it’s in a national historically registered building right on the Chena River, and the food is perfect, from the fresh seafood appetizer to the rhubarb cobbler. It is so perfect we will talk of the meal from the Pump House months from our fantastic meal.

Seafood tower at the Pump House in Fairbanks, Alaska

At 10:30 p.m., the sun is shining bright as though it were maybe 5:00 p.m. back home in Arizona; this is unsettling. It’s not even sunset, and everything is closed. Some people say it is the endless night of January that is disturbing, but for me here right now this, seemingly still early, part of the day demands that people should still be active doing normal daytime stuff. I think I might have the opposite issue with this long day if I were living here, as the long night would be perfect for long runs at making music, crafting, reading, and doing all the other stuff that requires hours of mindful focus for extended periods.

Sadly, our hotel is an abomination and lends a pallor to the entire idea of what Fairbanks is. The state of Alaska would be well served to create a board of standards of how quality and service are managed when a typical visitor, spending a couple of hundred dollars for a room, probably has an expectation that exceeds the type of room on offer that would cost $10 a night at a flophouse on Skid Row or anywhere else. I have to remind myself that we are not in Alaska for the accommodations but for the expansive nature and beauty that surrounds us outside of the city limits.

Death Valley with Jutta

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Death Valley National Park in California

We are in Death Valley National Park on the last day of the year. With Jutta having been here a couple of other times, we decided to take her into a corner she hadn’t visited yet, nor had we.

Death Valley National Park in California

To get to our surprise location, we had to head to the west side of the park and find the Emigrant Canyon Road turnoff.

Death Valley National Park in California

Our route took us right into the snowline on this beautiful blue sky day.

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise in Death Valley National Park in California

We are at the Wildrose Charcoal Kilns that are now long out of use, but back in the late 1800s they were busy at work making charcoal for the miners in the area.

Death Valley National Park in California

Our views were spectacular up here, affording Jutta sights of Death Valley that few take the time to see. From way up here, we needed to way back down there as Caroline needed to get to the visitors center before they closed so she could be sworn in for her newest Junior Ranger badge.

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise in Death Valley National Park in California

With a stroll down a boardwalk in Death Valley, we closed out 2013.

Jutta in the California Desert

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Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise at Joshua Tree National Park in California

After a good long rest to get over jetlag, we were on our first getaway with a weekend trip to California.

Joshua Tree National Park in California

Our first stop was at the Joshua Tree National Park.

Joshua Tree National Park in California

We took our time strolling through the desert so Jutta gets a nice close look at the details of what lives here.

Joshua Tree National Park in California

From dragonflies to tarantulas, we spotted more than a few signs of wildlife calling this home.

Jutta Engelhardt at Joshua Tree National Park in California

I’ve said it before, but it bears saying again: it might have taken me a long time to get my mother-in-law to show us a natural smile, but she finally got it figured out.

Joshua Tree National Park in California

Along the way, Caroline has been doing a workbook so she could earn her Junior Ranger badge. While Jutta is actively participating in helping Caroline, the prize will be Caroline’s alone.

Caroline Wise at Joshua Tree National Park in California

Back at the visitor center, Caroline turned in her research and studied answers and was once again sworn in as a Junior Ranger.

Denver to Rocky Mountains

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Denver Botanical Garden, Colorado

Before heading out of Denver this morning, I have another request from Caroline to satisfy, and that’s for us to visit the Denver Botanical Garden. You can rest assured that these orchids are not near our motel because our typical lodging arrangement is more likely to smell of cigarette smoke, stale beer, and a hint of urine and located where, at best, weeds might be growing. Where exactly we stayed is lost, lost, lost, as are many details about this trip to Denver because, once again, this is another of those posts that arise from a forgotten past when, for reasons beyond the timeline of active memory, there was nothing ever written or noted about this visit and so in 2023 I’m here at work trying to assemble something that might reflect relatively accurately about the events of the day.

Denver Botanical Garden, Colorado

Searching for something to say about the garden, there was a moment when I thought I wanted to claim it felt like cheating to photograph gardens and flowers as everything is already organized, but just as quickly as I entertained that idea, I realized that photographing anything is in essence configured in a similar way as whatever the subject matter aside from people and animals, the scene is presented as the scene is. Still, there’s something that has me feeling like I’m adding filler with no valuable caloric content, just sugary convenience.

Denver Botanical Garden, Colorado

I spent nearly 90 minutes writing the previous two paragraphs, which could be more time than we even spent in the garden; such is the nature of scouring a mind, looking for any hint of impressions that might have been made a decade earlier. One could be wondering what the importance is of backfilling this stuff, and my answer is that without the photos up here, they are lost in the depths of my hard drive where we rarely, if ever, look back at the photos occupying those magnetic particles. Take this post where I’m sharing 17 of what I felt were the best photos on the day we were visiting Colorado. I shot 229 photos, and the majority of them should be tossed. The tedium of going through so many photos to reacquaint ourselves with memories would be cumbersome, while here on the blog, we can do a quick scan of a day to pick up the high points, and if we are so inclined, we can read a little something or other that might offer us a chuckle.

Denver Botanical Garden, Colorado

Maybe I have a small disconnect with flower gardens in that I’m not sure where they come from. Take this dahlia; where do they grow wild? After a little search, I learned they originate in Mexico and Central America, while roses came from Central Asia. I’d wager that my relationship with flowers was negatively influenced by the fact that in my childhood, I only ever saw them in stores and that they now feel like some kind of cultivar only created for human appreciation, kind of like chihuahuas.

Squirrel at the Denver Botanical Garden, Colorado

While still at Wikipedia, I thought I’d look up something interesting about the squirrel, and well, there’s little that’s really interesting about this furry creature. But then, just as I was about to turn away, I gave a second thought to its name, which in Old English was Ācweorna, that gave way in the days of Middle English to Aquerne; both words are cognates of the German word Eichhorn. Look closely at the English variants, and you should be able to see the similarity. Obviously, we are not near squirrel yet, which would be influenced by the Anglo-Norman French word esquirel, which came from the Latin sciurus (which in turn is derived from Greek skíouros, which means shadow tail). For those of you who might not know much about the English language you speak, its origins are mostly found in French and German, with nearly nothing remaining of the original forms of English in the modern tongue we use.

Denver Botanical Garden, Colorado

Going out on a limb here by claiming this might be a magenta strawflower.

On the way to Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

It was now time to head up into the mountains, the Rocky Mountains National Park, to be precise. For one reason or another, we opted to travel the southern boundary and enter through the western gate. Maybe it was meant to facilitate a loop around and through the park, but without afternoon photos, I wasn’t able to decide with any certainty. What I am confident about is that we had beautiful weather for our visit.

On the way to Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

I wanted to believe that this is the Colorado River but after chasing the road using Street View, I can’t figure out anything about the location.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at the Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

Entering the Rocky Mountain National Park via Trailridge Road on the west side of the park just north of Grand Lake. I’m certain about this fact, as the rock layout of the foundation of this sign matches the Street View capture. Looking back at this 10-year-old image of me, I can better recognize the amount of gray hair that was appearing and realize that it didn’t happen as quickly as I sometimes fear. As for Caroline, and I’m sure she’ll disagree, she looks exactly the same, though she’ll point out that she now has about 30 gray hairs at the center front of her hairline; big deal because I now start looking like Santa Claus.

Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

Thanks to the good ‘ol internet for reminding me that we are at the Continental Divide in front of Poudre Lake. By the way, you may notice here that the weather is changing. Look closely and you might catch a whisp of a rainbow that’s over the small lake right near the short here.

Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

We are in front of the Alpine Visitors Center

Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

Hunting for sunshine and blue skies limits the direction I’m taking photos. With the change in conditions, you can bet we’ll have to plan on a return visit to capture the vistas under optimal conditions.

Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

While faint, there’s nothing wrong with double rainbows to brighten the heavy clouds marching in.

Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

We never expected that our visit would turn into a trip to the Rainbow Rockies.

Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

The elevation up here is no joke, with me getting dizzy every time we step out of the car. Hopefully, upon our return on a future visit, we’ll opt to stay in Estes Park in order to acclimatize to the heights of this national park.

Clarks Nutcracker bird at the Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

What a perfect example of the Clarks Nutcracker that posed for minutes, striking various stances for me to capture its elegance.

Caroline Wise at the Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado

To the astute reader, you might recognize that this photo of Caroline earning her Junior Rangers badge was at the Kawuneeche Visitor Center, which is near where we entered the park, and that would be correct. It’s placed here at the end of the post, as I felt it was a good closing for this entry.

Following our visit to the Rocky Mountains, we likely drove back to Denver via Estes Park and then headed towards our hotel in Aurora. We dined at a Ted’s Montana Grill around the corner from the ALoft at the Airport. Afterward, we returned to our room because, at the break of dawn the next day, we were catching a flight back to Phoenix so that Caroline could go directly to work.

Hawaii – Day 11

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Kahili Mountain Park on Kauai, Hawaii

That’s funny it doesn’t look or smell like Sunday, but it is. Well, if it is Sunday, then that means we have to head into Lihue and leave exploring Kahili Mountain for another day.

Hey, this isn’t the road to Lihue, and there’s no way we’ll be buying a Poke bento this early. Ah, we are just sightseeing before we get to our regularly scheduled activities. Wait a minute, we don’t have a schedule! Well, then, without anywhere we really need to be, I guess another drive up and down the tree tunnel is warranted.

Once back on the main road, we made it over to Lihue for breakfast at the Tip Top Motel Cafe And Bakery that’s been feeding islanders and visitors for nearly 100 years. The place is highly rated among locals, and we now understand why. It was packed and noisy, but all the same, we were seated pretty quickly. Our orders were taken within minutes, and coffee was delivered before we saw the menu, which was already at the table. Ten minutes later, my Moco Loco arrived, and Caroline’s banana pineapple pancakes with guava pineapple compote were placed in front of her. If we weren’t suffering from a wicked addiction to the Koloa Fish Market, we’d be wise upon a return visit to eat breakfast here every day.

We are on our way north, heading to Hanalei, as Caroline needs to exchange some ukulele sheet music that was misprinted. You can bet it will not be a direct out-and-back journey, as this beach stop attests. Which beach is this, you might ask? Who cares? It’s a beach on Kauai, and we were so rude as to carve our names into the sand, letting those who follow know that “We were here.”

Roadside, fresh, chilled coconuts sounded like a great idea, and with nothing stopping us from indulgence, we obliged our hedonistic sides and packed in some more calories.

Another reason to snack has presented itself with the Anahola Farmer’s Market. That’s right, you read it correctly, they are selling apple bananas, and we are buying them because one can never eat enough apple bananas when in Hawaii. As for that sample of BBQ pork, I tried that morphed into a plate to go; we’ll just call that “breakfast dessert.”

There is no pineapple such as these on the mainland of America. These giant, ripe, and incredibly sweet, perfect pineapples are unique to Hawaii. We may eat this later today, tomorrow with breakfast, or on Christmas morning before we board our flight back to Arizona. The cold reality that we are down to our last 48 hours in Hawaii is better left for dealing with in the minutes before we drop the rental car, for now, we need to return to the exploration of paradise.

Kilauea Point National Wildlife Refuge is a fond, fond memory from our first visit, and with perfect weather, we would be fools not to stop again. That there is a Junior Ranger Program here is an added bonus, and within minutes of arriving Caroline has her booklet and walks along noodling over the questions.

It’s mere minutes later before we see a pod of whales offshore, and while once again we are denied seeing a breaching cetacean, we do get to see plenty of tail fins, spouts, and arching backs.

Can one have a favorite bird? While I certainly have my least favorite bird in city-dwelling pigeons, I probably only know of a fraction of bird species from around our globe, and there are many beautiful specimens, but the albatross certainly holds a special place in my imagination. Just the idea that this bird can fly non-stop around the earth without landing while expending little to no energy is a feat of evolution that boggles my mind. Then consider that we know that they can live up to at least 66 years of age and that once bonded with a mate, they will stay together until the end of their lives. Of course, there are those beautiful eyes they have that I’m too gullible in assigning anthropomorphic qualities to. I’ll just go and blurt it out right here: I love the albatross.

Check out the nene, also spelled nēnē, otherwise known as the Hawaiian goose. This native of Hawaii is only found on the islands out here in the Pacific and is speculated to have arrived on the islands when they were blown off course at some time in the past. They are friendly, curious birds with a unique soft call compared to the harsh sound of the common goose.

The Kilauea Point Lighthouse could not stand out in greater contrast to the blue sky, deep blue water, and greenery out here on this spit of land.

The sky is also full of frigate birds, and while a little bit buzzardly looking, they are graceful and draw my admiration for their ability to live free, fly around, and not be subject to the arbitrary laws and whims of power-hungry bird enforcers.

I don’t really care if they are red-footed or blue-footed because this bird has the word booby in it. Yeah, buddy, this is the red-footed booby. I tried a good two or three minutes to get a pair of boobies in my shot, but all I got was this bird in front of the ocean. I’ll be looking for a pair of boobies to photograph and will get back to you, the reader, should I see them.

The ocean churns hard around Kilauea Point, and at times, we watched waves break on a cliffside, sending its waters a good 80 feet straight up. With birds, dolphins, whales, a lighthouse, and perfect weather all around us, it is hard to figure out what to give our full attention to.

You should know just how badly I want to reach out and feel how soft those feathers are around the nene’s neck. These official State Birds of Hawaii are protected and endangered and so even if my judgment is occasionally poor, I will respect the request not to interfere with these gorgeous birds.

The other day, when we were up and purchased the ukulele, the sky was overcast, and this overlook of the Hanalei National Wildlife Refuge was jam-packed with others who had the same idea of snapping this image. This spot on Kauai is probably the second most famous after the Napali Coast and is certainly an iconic location. Down below are paddies with taro plants, which are essential to the Native Hawaiian diet of both poi and lau lau.

Here’s the view from below the overlook of those plots of taro. The last time we were here, we didn’t make time to follow the narrow road that was more of a wide sidewalk leading into the refuge; today, we did. The road might go for a couple of miles, but it was hard to tell, considering how slow we were traveling. There are thickets of bamboo, a couple of homes, a trail we won’t take this visit, and a slow-moving waterway that is the likely source of irrigation of all this taro.

Over at Hanalei Strings, we learn that there are no refunds, only exchanges. That was okay as Caroline opted to leave with more yarn; as I went to pay for the difference, the guy waved it off, saying it was for the trouble of driving back up, like driving around a Hawaiian island is a hassle or something.

The next stop was at Tahiti Nui. Why Tahiti Nui? Because Caroline, prior to leaving for Hawaii, let it be known that she wanted umbrella drinks on this excursion, and the other day at the Limahuli Garden a lady told us of a particularly nice dive bar. While it was specifically described as a dive bar, we were reassured that it was a great dive bar. While I, being the teetotaler, opted for Julia’s Iced Tea, which was a mix of iced tea, lemonade, and guava juice, Caroline “started” with their famous Mai Tai. Sitting there, taking in the sights of bar culture, we couldn’t help but do some noshing until Caroline decided on her second drink, a lilikoi margarita. With the umbrella drinks checked off the to-do list, one of us walks back to the car, and the other weaves.

A small apparently little-used road led us to a small cove. There are no facilities, no lifeguards, and apparently, clothes are optional.

When we were finally ready to leave that isolated spot of tranquility, the clouds were moving in, suggesting that another spectacular sunset was being scratched off the itinerary. Over to Starbucks, we went and with coffee in hand, we walked around. Wouldn’t you know it, there’s a man talking to a woman while holding a piglet. Turns out the woman is his girlfriend who works in the shop; we volunteer that we are certified expert piglet caregivers and would gladly watch his new pet while he properly visits with his girlfriend. So here we are, just hanging out in Kapaa, drinking coffee and chilling with a piglet cradled in my wife’s arms because that’s how we roll when on the isle of Kauai.

Sadly, the owner came back for his little black pig, which was okay as I would have had no idea how we’d ever get it on a plane to Arizona. Before returning to the cabin, we stopped at Walmart which turns out to be the best place for cheap souvenirs to drag back to coworkers in Caroline’s office. For our friend Rainy, we found some Hello Kitty pineapple-flavored marshmallows.

We packed up a day early so our last night would be as stress-free as possible. I headed to the shower outside, and Caroline pulled up the ukulele and tried playing. I say she “tried” playing because she’d chosen to try Aloha Oe, and in between the tears, she would have to stop and catch her breath. I listened to her through the walls and couldn’t help but feel teary-eyed with her as her romantic notions were affecting both of us.